Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song We Gettin Rich, artist - Ludacris. Date of issue: 11.05.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
We Gettin Rich |
| Yeah we gettin rich |
| Yeah we gettin rich |
| Yeah we gettin rich, I said |
| Yeah we gettin rich bitch my whole crew eating, |
| Yeah we gettin rich bitch my whole crew eating, |
| It’s 24 you know my demeanor, |
| 24 inches on the Beemer, my |
| Had a baby daddy sayin man hav you seen her, |
| And the nigga saying yeah she with the nigga with the beemer, |
| ATL finest, southside behind this, |
| My new nickname is your highness I’m the flyest, |
| I’m the brightest, I got the midest touch, |
| Anything I touch I can bundle up and double up, |
| Switch lanes calm as fuck, |
| I ride around with money like an armoured truck, |
| Wills Fargo, where’s harbo, |
| Color purple, move wieght like cargo, |
| And yeah I need cheese like nancho, |
| Asap pronto, this feeling is winning, |
| Cinco de meyo, my connect just chilling, |
| But every other day I swear just like Christmas, |
| We got bags like Santa Claus, keys like Piano dawg, |
| When hard came out he came out muslim, |
| When gold came out man, he came out joockin, |
| The life we chose hoes, clothes, dope, doe, |
| That’s all a nigga know, yep, |
| Yeah we getting rich bitch |
| My whole crew eating |
| Yeah we getting rich |
| Can’t be fucking with you niggas while I’m dealing with these bricks, |
| That’s the same shit that broke Michael Vick, |
| Shit happens, pick your best rapper in a battle, |
| Don’t know enough, |
| Don’t play with kids come back when you grown up, |
| Grown man shit, this is not Nickelodeon, |
| You wanna see a trick I can show you where I’m holdin em, |
| Trapper of the year the connect, call me, |
| Say the pack in the air I got the check on me, |
| You boys bin phoney talking bout what you holding, |
| Niggas bullshitting rapping boy, keep at least 2 on me, |
| Twin like fish in the suits saying who want em |
| Trying switch the page, today the coupes grey, |
| Tomorrow, the next day it’s orange, |
| While I’m sparring back and forth with a bitch that’s foreign, |
| Taking off the glasses, smoking weed and laughing, |
| Time for some action, face in my lap bitch |
| Just like tit said, |
| I think about money I got chickens on my head and your bitch in my bed, |
| Disturbing the Peace, |
| Luda, |
| Listen, |
| How else can I explain it? |
| Young, black and famous, |
| I shit dollar bills, I get money out the anus, |
| I own 12 houses niggas still paying rent, |
| I took the may 5 stacks and I ain’t seen the b… since, |
| Too much money, I don’t know how to act with it, |
| So I ride around up in my 93 Ack with it, |
| Like it never happened, like I’m undercover, |
| Like women still licking my Dick when I was Chris Lova, |
| What da fuck, death to you haters, |
| I wear black everyday like I shop with Darth Vader, |
| Keep the Luke Skywalker force is the chopper, |
| Furry mink coat straight looking like Chewbacca, |
| You can’t stop us, even if you tried, |
| Closet looking like some gaters just crawled in and died, |
| And we have gathered here today for the mula, |
| Rich niggas, dolla boy, tity boi, Luda, |
| Playas Circle Nigga, |
| DTP |
| Flight 360 — The Takeoff |